The Pantropheon; Or, History of Food, Its Preparation, from the Earliest Ages of the World

Part 8

Chapter 83,956 wordsPublic domain

A young and unfortunate beauty had the ill-luck to displease a vindictive and irascible god, who instantly metamorphosed her into an artichoke.[IX-89] This poor girl’s name was Cinara. Although she had become a bitter plant she preserved this sweet name, which the moderns have strangely modified. Our readers, who eat artichokes with so much indifference, will, perhaps, sometimes lament this poor victim of a blind resentment.

This plant was well known to the ancients; the hilly regions of Greece, Asia, and Egypt were covered with it;[IX-90] but the inhabitants made no use of it as an aliment, and it remained uncultivated.[IX-91]

It would be rather difficult to trace the precise period when it was first introduced into Italy. All we know is, that it grew there more than half a century before the Christian era, in the time of Dioscorides, who mentioned it.[IX-92] It appears, nevertheless, that hardly any one troubled himself about artichokes, or their esculent qualities, up to that time; but the wealthy, about a century after, began to appreciate them, and Pliny, in one of his jesting whims, reproaches the rich with having deprived the lower classes and _asses_ of a food which nature seemed to have destined for them.[IX-93]

This vegetable was then very dear,[IX-94] for it did not succeed, and was subsequently given up. It was so far forgotten that in the year 1473 it appeared as a novelty at Venice;[IX-95] and towards the year 1465 it was brought from Naples to Florence, whence it passed into France in the sixteenth century.[IX-96]

Galen[IX-97] looked upon the artichoke as a bad food.[IX-98] Columella sung its praise in his verses; he recommended it to the disciples of Bacchus, and forbid the use of it to those who were anxious to preserve a sweet and pure voice.[IX-99]

This plant, whatever may be in other respects its estimable qualities, does not please every one equally well; its bitterness and unpleasant odour keep it at a distance from numerous palates--perhaps because too many allow themselves to be prejudiced by deceitful appearances. Here are two very ingenious methods by means of which a trial might be made to overcome, or lessen, the defects it undoubtedly has, and which we can but deplore:--

Artichokes will become mild by taking care to steep the seed in a mixture of honey and milk.[IX-100] They will then exhale the most agreeable perfume, particularly when this seed has passed three days in the juice of bay leaves, lilies, or roses.[IX-101]

Having quoted the authority, we give the recipe for what it is worth.

Until the result of this experiment is known, artichokes may be eaten raw, with a seasoning of hard eggs chopped in very small pieces, garum, and oil.[IX-102]

If you prefer a sharper sauce, mix well some green mint with rue, Greek fennel,[IX-103] and coriander; add, afterwards, some pepper, alisander, honey, garum, and oil.[IX-104] They are also eaten boiled, with cummin, pepper, gravy, and oil.[IX-105]

“It is well known under what form artichokes, either raw or cooked, appear on our tables. The best way to preserve them is to half cook them, separate the leaves from the fur, and preserve the fleshy part, called _the bottom_, and throw them, still warm, in cold water, to make them firm. That operation is called _blanchir_. They are laid afterwards on hurdles, and put four different times in the oven, as soon as the bread is taken out. They become then very thin, hard, and transparent, like horn, and return to their original form in hot water. They must be kept free from damp.”--PARMENTIER.

POMPION.

Like the gourd, the good and creeping pompion has served more than once as a term of comparison, and that in a style most humiliating. Should any one happen to be thick-headed, or not very intelligent,[IX-106] he was immediately compared to a pompion (popularly, pumpkin--whence bumpkin). The insult went still further: it was said of a pusillanimous man, “That he had a pompion where his heart ought to have been.”[IX-107]

The obesity of this vegetable, and its inelegant shape, have doubtless given rise to these injurious remarks.

It was, however, acknowledged that it possessed many estimable qualities, which ought to have compensated for its outward defects. It was thought to be very refreshing, and was employed with success in the treatment of diseases of the eyes.[IX-108]

We might undertake (if permitted) a long dissertation, in order to prove that the Hebrews, weary of being in the Desert, murmured because they were deprived of the pompion of Egypt,[IX-109] and not the melon, as translators have rendered it; but we should be accused of egregious presumption; the learned would frown, critics would not spare us, and our pompions would, nevertheless, pass as melons.

This plant occupies a prominent place in the precious catalogue of Roman dainties which we offer for the meditation of judges. Here are some of the ancient modes of preparing this vegetable:

1st. Boil some pompions, put them in a stewpan with cummin and a little oil; place them for a short time over a slow fire, and serve.[IX-110]

2nd. When you have well boiled, reduce them to a pulp, then put them on a dish with pepper, alisander, cummin, wild marjoram, onion, wine, garum, and oil; thicken with flour, and serve.[IX-111]

3rd. When the pompion has boiled in water, it is then seasoned with wild fennel, sylphium,[IX-112] dried mint, vinegar, and garum.[IX-113]

CUCUMBER.

When the Israelites were in the Desert they regretted much the cucumbers of Egypt, which were sold to them at a very trifling price when under the yoke of Pharaoh.[IX-114] We may thence infer that this vegetable was very plentiful, and chiefly in great demand by the lower order of people; for as the Jews were in a state of servitude, they were necessarily assimilated with the most abject of the Egyptians.

We see that this _cucurbitacea_ has been long known, and that, after the lapse of many centuries, it is held in the same degree of estimation it enjoyed among the Eastern nations.

The Greeks thought much of the cucumber, particularly of that kind which came from the environs of Antioch.[IX-115] They attributed to this plant marvellous properties, which modern scepticism has completely thrown aside. We think it good in salad, with vinegar, oil, pepper, and salt, and that is all.

It is, we imagine, the only good quality our farmers ascribe to it at the present day. Formerly, in Greece, the same class of persons, being clearer-sighted, or more credulous, were convinced that this vegetable protected all kinds of seeds against the voracity of insects. To obtain this result it was only necessary to steep the seed in the juice obtained from the root of the cucumber, before it was sown.[IX-116]

We freely offer this preservative to those who may wish to give it a trial, and sincerely hope they may profit by this revival of the Greek process.

The Romans conceived that this cold and somewhat insipid vegetable (we beg pardon of its admirers) required a seasoning to heighten its flavour. No sooner had they transplanted it from Asia into Rome,[IX-117] than they busied themselves in rendering it worthy of their tables by various preparations, which may, perhaps, interest the curious.

1st. Scrape the cucumbers, and eat them with œnogarum.[IX-118][W]

Or, prepare the condiment with thyme, wild mint, pepper, and alisander; to which add, as before, garum, oil, and honey.[IX-120]

2nd. Scrape the cucumbers, and boil them with parsley, seed, gravy, and oil; thicken, and sprinkle pepper over the dish before serving.[IX-121]

3rd. Again, they may be seasoned with pepper, pennyroyal, honey, or sun-made wine, gravy, vinegar, and a little sylphium.[IX-122]

4th. You will obtain a most delicate dish by boiling the cucumbers with brains, already cooked; adding afterwards some cummin, and a little honey.[IX-123]

The cucumber, although but little nutritious, does not agree with cold stomachs. In the north an astonishing quantity are consumed. The Poles ate them at every repast with boiled meat.

“Cucumbers are preserved in a very simple manner. The essential point is to obtain good wine-vinegar. After having well washed and wiped them, put them into either white or red vinegar (the colour is better preserved by using the white); add salt; cover simply the vessel containing them with a board. The vinegar must always be an inch higher than the cucumbers, and must be entirely renewed at the end of a month.”--PARMENTIER.

LETTUCE.

From time immemorial the lettuce has occupied a most distinguished place in the kitchen garden. The Hebrews ate it, without preparation, with the Paschal lamb.[IX-124] The opulent Greeks were very fond of the lettuces of Smyrna,[IX-125] which appeared on their tables at the end of a repast;[IX-126] the Romans, who at first imitated them, decided, under Domitian, that this favourite dish should be served in the first course with eggs,[IX-127] purposely to excite their indomitable appetites, which three courses (and such courses, ye gods! when compared with ours of the present day) would hardly satisfy.

The bitter lettuce was sufficient for the frugal Hebrews,[IX-128] but the delicate epicureans of Athens and Rome were much more particular; they valued them only when a mild and sweet savour invited the most rebellious palate, and awakened the slumbering desires of a fatigued stomach. And what care, what attention, did they not bestow on the growth and maturity of this cherished plant!

Aristoxenus, a philosopher by profession, an epicurean by taste, had in his garden a species of lettuce which was the envy of his surrounding neighbours. The worthy man, rendered happy by their jealous admiration, went every evening, without fail, to contemplate the small square of ground which contained his treasure, and sprinkled it carefully with water, doubtless from a limpid stream. Tush! Water, to moisten the lettuces of Aristoxenus! No: the philosopher kept in reserve a sweet and excellent wine to quench the thirst of his plants, and to communicate to them that delicate perfume and exquisite taste, the mysterious cause of which baffled the neighbouring gastronomists.

The day after, the arch old man would say, with a roguish smile, that he was going to gather some relishing green cakes, which the earth prepared expressly for him,[IX-129] and the simple countrymen were wonder-struck without understanding the cause.

The lettuce--favourite plant of the beautiful Adonis[IX-130]--possesses a narcotic virtue, of which ancient physicians have taken notice. Galen mentions that, in his old age, he had not found a better remedy against the wakefulness he was troubled with.[IX-131] The biographer of Augustus informs us that this Emperor, being attacked with hypochondria, recovered only by the use of lettuces, recommended by Musa, his first physician;[IX-132] nothing, therefore, is wanting in praise of this useful plant--literally nothing, since the king of cooks, Cœlius Apicius, judged it worthy of an honourable place in the immortal book he has bequeathed to the amateurs of the Archeologico-culinary science of all ages and all countries.

“Take,” says he, “the leaves of lettuces, let them be boiled with onions, in water wherein you have put some nitre; take them out, squeeze out the water, and cut them in small pieces; mix well some pepper, alisander,[IX-133] parsley seed, dried mint, and onions; put this mixture to the lettuce, and add to the whole some gravy, oil, and wine.”[IX-134]

Lettuces may also be eaten with a dressing of gravy and pickles.[IX-135]

Our ancestors served salads with roasted meat, roasted poultry, &c. They had a great many which are now no longer in vogue. They ate leeks, cooked in the wood-ashes, and seasoned with salt and honey; borage, mint, and parsley, with salt and oil; lettuce, fennel, mint, chervil, parsley, and elder-flowers mixed together. They also classed among their salads an agglomeration of feet, heads, cocks’ combs, and fowls’ livers, cooked, and seasoned with parsley, mint, vinegar, pepper, and cinnamon. Nettles, and the twigs of rosemary, formed delicious salads for our forefathers; and to these they sometimes added pickled gherkins.[IX-136]

ENDIVE.

Pliny assures us that the juice of this plant, mixed with vinegar and oil of roses, is an excellent remedy for the head-ache;[IX-137] we leave to the proper judges a pharmaceutical mixture which does not belong to our province, and which we only quote _en passant_.

Virgil thought endive bitter,[IX-138] but he did not speak ill of it. Columella recommended this salad to fastidious and satiated palates;[IX-139] this is praising it. The Egyptians appreciated its merits,[IX-140] which the Greeks had too much sense and good taste to disdain; and the Romans ate it prepared in the following manner:--

Choose some fine endive; wash it well; drain off all the water; add a little gravy and oil; then chop some onions very small; strew them over the endive, and add honey and vinegar.[IX-141]

It is understood that the sweet savour of the honey corrects the bitterness of the plant; but a judicious attention must preside over the quantity of that substance, for too much or too little might easily spoil this salad of Apicius.

ONIONS.

Whoever wishes to preserve his health must eat every morning, before breakfast, young onions, with honey.[IX-142] Such a treat is assuredly not very tempting: besides, this rather strong vegetable leaves after it a most unpleasant perfume, which long reminds us of its presence; wherefore this recipe has not met with favour, and, indeed, it is much to be doubted whether it will ever become fashionable.

Alexander the Great found the onion in Egypt, where the Hebrews had learned to like it.[IX-143] He brought it into Greece, where it was given as food to the troops, whose martial ardour[IX-144] it was thought to excite.

Pliny assures us that Gaul produced a small kind, which the Romans called Gallic onions, and which they thought more delicate than those of Italy.[IX-145] At any rate, it was a dish given up to plebeians and the poor. Horace opposed to it fish--the luxurious nourishment of rich and dainty Romans.[IX-146] In spite of this reprobation on the part of the elegant poet, Apicius does not fear to introduce the plant in his _Olus Molle_, a kind of _Julienne_, not devoid of merit.

Take onions, rather dry, and mix pepper, alisander, and winter-savory, to season a variety of vegetables previously boiled in water and nitre, the which, when very fine, thicken with cullis, oil, and wine.[IX-147]

LEEKS.

This vegetable--a powerful divinity, dreaded among the Egyptians,[IX-148] and a food bewailed by the Israelites in their journey through the Desert[IX-149]--cured the Greeks of numerous diseases, which in our days it is to be feared would resist its medicinal properties.[IX-150] Everything changes in this sublunary world, and the leek no doubt follows the common law.

The authors of a compilation rather indigestible at times, but often very curious, assert that this vegetable attains an extraordinary size, by putting as many of the seeds as one can take up with three fingers into a piece of linen, which is then to be tied-up, covered with manure, and watered with care. All these seeds--so they say--will at last form themselves into one single seed, which will produce a monstrous leek.[IX-151]

This process, which is revealed to us by the geoponics, would have had an enthusiastic reception from those fervent pagans who vied in zeal with each other, to see who could offer Latona, on the day of the Theoxenias, the most magnificent leek.[IX-152]

The mother of Apollo received this plant with pleasure, although presented to her quite raw; but she would probably have preferred it dressed in the following manner:--

Take leeks, the mildest it is possible to procure; boil them in water and oil, with a handful of salt, and put them into a dish, with gravy, oil, and wine.[IX-153]

Or, cover the leeks with young cabbage leaves; cook them under the hot embers, and season afterwards as above.[IX-154]

MELON.

This _cucurbitacea_, the most delicate vegetable belonging to this numerous family, has always been the delight of the inhabitants of the East and of Europe. It came originally from the most temperate regions of Asia; the chivalric Baber made it known to his Hindoo subjects;[IX-155] and the Romans introduced it into the west, at the time of their first expedition against the Persians. Melons had a prodigious success at Rome, and soon became a necessity with which the wealthy could not dispense. The Emperor Tiberius, that cruel and covetous prince,[IX-156] liked them so much that they were served to him every day throughout the year.

The Greeks, whose ingenious and lively imagination mingled with everything the sweet perfume of flowers, contrived to place the seeds of melons in vessels full of rose leaves, with which they were afterwards sown. They maintained that, when at maturity, this cool and refreshing vegetable was impregnated with sweet emanations, and that its flavour called to mind its sweet and delicious abode with the queen of flowers.[IX-157]

Sometimes also they macerated the seeds in milk and honey. Not only melons, but all the _cucurbitaceæ_ were treated in this manner, when it was wished to communicate to them a milder flavour.[IX-158]

In pointing out these processes in use among the ancient horticulturists, we do not at all pledge ourselves for their efficacy. However, it must be acknowledged that they exhibit a singularly praiseworthy emulation, which has perhaps prepared the way for the wonders with which our modern gardeners have made us familiar.

Independently of its exquisite flavour, the melon passed, among the Greeks and Romans, as being very beneficial to the stomach and head.[IX-159] It is possible that they may have gone a little too far; but then man is so ready to give imaginary qualities to what he loves, that we cannot wonder at their praises of this delicious plant, which we generally eat in the most simple manner, without any other seasoning than a little sugar, sometimes with salt and pepper. Not so with the Romans; their practised palates required a more exquisite combination; they, therefore, added to it a sharp savoury sauce--a compound of pepper, pennyroyal, honey, or sun-made wine, garum, vinegar, and sylphium.[IX-160]

Melons were not known in central or northern Europe until the reign of Charles VIII., King of France, who brought them from Italy.[IX-161]

RADISH.

Amongst other singularities which abound in the Talmud, the curious can but have remarked the following:

Judea formerly produced kitchen garden plants so large, that a fox bethought himself to hollow a radish, and make it his residence. After he had removed, this new kind of lair was discovered; it was put into a scale, and found to weigh nearly one hundred pounds.[IX-162]

It is a pity that no one preserved the seed of so remarkable a vegetable, which no doubt was only to be found in Judea.

The Greeks had very fine radishes, but they were not of such a surprising size. They procured them from the territory of Mantinea.[IX-163] Mount Algidea also furnished the Romans with an excellent kind,[IX-164] but which they esteemed less highly than those of Nursia,[IX-165] in the country of the Sabines. These latter cost about threepence a pound in the time of Pliny; they were sold for double that sum when the crop was not abundant.[IX-166]

Writers of antiquity notice three distinct kinds of radishes: the large, short, and thick; the round; and the wild.[IX-167] They fancied that, at the end of three years, the seed of this plant produced very good cabbages,[IX-168] which must have been rather vexatious, at times, to honest gardeners who might have preferred radishes.

In times of popular tumult this root was often transformed into an ignominious projectile, with which the mob pursued persons whose political opinions rendered them obnoxious to _the majority_, as we might say in the present day.[IX-169] As soon as calm was re-established, the insulting vegetable was placed in the pot to boil, and afterwards eaten with oil and a little vinegar.[IX-170]

The Romans preserved radishes very well, by covering them with a paste composed of honey, vinegar, and salt.[IX-171]

HORSE-RADISH.

“By Apollo!” cried, mournfully, a philanthropic and gastronomic Greek, “one must be completely mad to buy horse-radish, when fish can be found in the market.”[IX-172] So thought the philosopher Amphis. And at Rome, as in Greece, this reviled and despised root hardly found a place on the table of the poor, when anything else could be had.

There were several serious causes for this fatal proscription: this plant was found to be bitter, stringy, and of difficult digestion;[IX-173] it was looked upon as a very common food;[IX-174] the lowest class alone dared to feed upon it; the opulent were therefore compelled to exclude it from the number of their dishes. And again, certain strange customs, authorised by the Roman law, contributed greatly to make the horse-radish an object of horror and detestation; so true it is, that the manner in which objects are associated with our ideas determines almost invariably our love or hatred for them.

Nevertheless, all the species of this vegetable (and there were five in number, distinctly mentioned by Theophrastus[IX-175]) ought not to have been condemned so severely. The Corinthian, the Leiothasian, the Cleonian, the Amorean, and the Bœotian, were so many distinct and separate species, each of which possessed its own peculiar property and quality.[IX-176] The last-named, with its large and silky leaves, was tender, and had a sweet, agreeable taste.[IX-177] The others, not so good, perhaps, were wholesome and nourishing, and their natural bitterness never failed to disappear, when the seeds were allowed to soak for some time in sweet or raisin wine before they were sown.[IX-178]

Shall we now mention the properties the horse-radish possessed, and which ought to have been sufficient to establish its reputation, if prejudice were not both deaf and blind?

Take, fasting, some pieces of this beneficent and despised root, and the most inveterate poisons will be changed for you into inoffensive drinks.[IX-179]

Would you have the power to handle and play with those dangerous reptiles whose active venom causes a speedy and sure death? Wash your hands in the juice of horse-radish.[IX-180]

Do you seek an efficacious remedy for the numerous evils which besiege us unceasingly? Take horse-radish,--nothing but horse-radish.[IX-181]

It is true that this incomparable root attacks the enamel of the teeth, and, indeed, soon spoils them;[IX-182] but why should we be so particular when so many marvellous properties are in question?

As to its culinary preparation, Apicius recommends us to serve it mixed with pepper and garum.[IX-183]

GARLIC.

Garlic was known in the most remote ages. It was a god in Egypt.[IX-184] The Greeks held it in horror. It was part of their military food--hence came the proverb, “Eat neither garlic nor beans;” that is to say, abstain from war and law.[IX-185] There was a belief that this plant excited the courage of warriors; therefore, it was given to cocks to incite them to fight. The Greek and Roman sailors made as great a use of it as the soldiers,[IX-186] and an ample provision was always made when they set out on any maritime expedition.[IX-187] It was a prevailing opinion that the effects of foul air were neutralized by garlic; and it was, no doubt, this idea which made reapers and peasants use it so lavishly.[IX-188]